He hadn’t felt her earlier—not exactly—but there’d been a pressure, a subtle distortion just beyond his awareness back in the garage. He’d chalked it up to the heightened tension of the other three goons with him. Men who thrived on violence left an emotional residue.Noise.
But now…
Now he was certain Kiki had been there.
And she had shielded herself from him.
Not just physically.
Psychically.
Eric drew in a long, measured breath, the corner of his mouth twitching with something that resembled amusement.
Interesting,he mused.Very interesting.
She had either grown stronger as she matured, or she had always had the ability but kept it hidden.
Smart and extremely powerful,he thought with amusement.
“Hey, are you listening to me?” Lyle snapped. “We need to find them. Fast. The bosses are getting impatient. We’ll track ’em and wait for the backup. Aeto will be exhausted by the time we find him. If what you said earlier is right, this chick ain’t just a side piece—she’s a fucking asset. The Founders want her—alive.”
Eric finally turned, slowly, his eyes glittering under the fluorescent lights.
His gaze swept over Lyle like a man contemplating taking out a mound of trash. The man was an idiot. Brutal, impatient, and utterly disposable. So were the others.
“You won’t be coming,” Eric said flatly.
Lyle blinked. “What?”
“I’ll go alone.”
“The hell you will.” Lyle scoffed and spat on the pavement. “I don’t go anywhere without my team. And you don’t go anywhere without me. You think I’m stupid? The Founders were very explicit in their instructions?—”
“I’m not interested in what the Founders ordered,” Eric said, his voice calm.
That shut Lyle up for half a beat.
“Well, I do. The Founders won’t be pleased if you try to go rogue,” he retorted, narrowing his eyes.
Eric shrugged and turned away, walking toward the end of the lot. The wind had picked up, tugging at the hem of his coat. A piece of trash tumbled past like a piece of torn parchment. The chill in the air bit clean.
“Where the hell are you going?” Lyle barked behind him.
Eric paused.
Looked over his shoulder.
And smiled.
“A funeral,” he said. “Several, actually.”
He held Lyle’s stare for a long, cold moment, the smile never leaving his lips.
“Tell me something,” Eric added softly. “Have you made your arrangements yet?”
Lyle’s face paled a shade. His mouth opened, but whatever smart-ass comment was forming died in his throat.
Eric turned back, walking away without another word.
